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*****
I didn't hate William Randall IV on sight. My first impression was to treat him with the general wariness and mistrust I treated every stranger who rode into my town, that certain caution with which I regarded all outsiders until I ascertained their level of threat. My second assessment of him was that he was annoying in a way that made Jock Steele look like good company. But hate? That came later.
It was early evening when he first rode in. Darkness had settled, the street fires were lit, and I was seated outside the saloon with my feet up on a barrel enjoying the relative calm. It was a strange time for an arrival and I watched his approach carefully, noting his lack of obvious firepower and his casual canter. No emergency then, and no attack either.
"Good evening!" he called cheerfully as he dismounted near the steps to the boardwalk. I merely nodded.
His clothing reminded me of Ezra in a way, in that it was a little too fancy for the situation. The situation appeared to be a weary traveler who'd come a long way in the dust. People generally don't wear tailored clothes for that occasion.
"William Randall IV," he introduced himself. "Businessman and entertainer." He almost looked as though he was going to walk up the steps, perhaps to extend his hand to me but my cold stare stopped him short. After an awkward moment during which he cleared his throat and then grinned he finally asked, "And you are?"
I regarded him a moment longer. "Chris Larabee."
"Pleased to meet you." His sincerity was definitely in question and I didn't respond in kind. No sense lying to a stranger. "And what is your business, Mr. Larabee?"
I pushed my feet on the barrel to lean my chair back against the wall. The angle was just enough to brush my duster past my gun, revealing it carefully, threatening but casual.
"My business is keeping the peace, Mr. Randall," I said finally.
He tipped his hat to me. "Well, then may we both be successful, Mr. Larabee."
I did give him a smile at this but it wasn't a friendly one. "Oh, I'm always successful at what I do, Mr. Randall."
This seemed to unnerve him just a little, but he recovered quickly and walked past me into the saloon.
*****
I had hoped that Randall was just passing through Four Corners. Given the uproar he'd caused in just one night I could do with seeing the backside of his horse as it left town. He may have dressed like Ezra, but he took to the pursuit of women like Buck. Yet while Buck had a genuine love for the fairer sex that shone through all his dealings with them, Randall oozed slime with his insincere charm. He reminded me of one of those fancy false fronts they put on buildings to make you think something is large and beautiful and only when you walk through the door do you see that it's just a run down old shack.
Unfortunately he didn't show any signs of leaving the next morning and he hadn't yet done anything worthy of locking him up.
"I don't like that new guy," JD said to me as he stood surveying the street from the batwing doors of the saloon. I sipped my coffee and didn't comment. "Do you think he'll be trouble?"
"Seems harmless enough," I said. Still, trouble came in many forms and not all of it was fired from a gun.
"Hmph." JD's brow creased. "Wonder what he's doing with Miz Travis."
My mug seemed to pause of its own accord on its way to my mouth. I put it down abruptly and rose to look out past JD's shoulder to see Mary walking on Randall's arm, heading towards the church.
"Must be some newspaper business," suggested Buck with a tone that said he thought it was anything but.
Well, Buck may have been amused but I was not. I pulled my hat on and went over to the church steps.
They'd left the door open after entering so I could hear them before they were aware of my presence.
"You flatter me, Mr. Randall!"
"On the contrary, Mrs. Travis. My compliment is not worthy of your beauty."
He brought her hand to his lips to kiss just as I pulled the door shut with a little more force than was strictly necessary. Mary jumped slightly, pulling back from Randall to face me. She smiled and I forced a smile onto my face in return but it felt so brittle I was amazed my lips didn't fall right off.
"Chris! Isn't it wonderful what Mr. Randall is doing?"
I had my own opinions on what Mr. Randall was doing and wonderful wasn't even in the vicinity. However, I was also fairly confident that Mary was talking about something else entirely.
"What is it that he's doing?" I asked, lightly, I hoped.
"He's the frontrunner of a group of players," she told me, obviously excited.
"Players," I repeated. Somehow this didn't surprise me at all. The man was certainly a player! I was still a little perplexed at why Mary would think this was a good thing.
"They travel from town to town putting on plays," she explained, sensing my confusion.
"Ah, plays," I said, nodding. This was a surprise, although it did explain the man's wardrobe to some extent.
"Yes, we specialize in Shakespeare," put in Randall, with an amused smirk. "Although we also do Greek tragedy on occasion. You know, the classics."
"Yes, the classics," I said, eyeing him carefully. Mary was all but forgotten in the communication between us. 'Get out of my town.' His expression was challenging. 'Make me.'
"It is a perfect opportunity to bring some culture to Four Corners," Mary said. "We just came over to ask Josiah if we could use the church as a venue."
I frowned. "I don't know, Mary. Are you sure the people around here are going to appreciate..." I hesitated. "The classics," I finished.
She looked faintly impatient at my lack of enthusiasm. "Just because we live on the frontier doesn't mean we're uneducated barbarians!"
"I never said anybody was," I protested, a little defensively. Then I added, since they seemed to be waiting for something more, "Josiah's out at the Wilsons'. He won't be back until this afternoon, I expect."
Undeterred, Mary turned back to Randall who looked entirely too self-satisfied for my liking. "Well, then Mr. Randall, let's get to work on some posters and playbills. Shall we?"
"What an excellent idea, Mrs. Travis," he responded, offering his arm.
They swept towards me and so help me I opened the door for them. It was all I could do not to seethe watching their progress towards the Clarion office.
That was when I knew I hated William Randall IV.
*****
"Oh now, Chris, things could be worse," Buck said later that evening as he sat down with his beer. His grin went from ear to ear and I knew I was about to be made the butt of some joke. I glowered at him trying to indicate that I really wasn't in the mood. "I mean, it's not like Mary's recruiting us to actually act in the play or anything like that."
JD hooted with laughter at the prospect and even Vin chuckled.
I looked over to where Randall was currently engaged in a poker game with Ezra. I hoped Standish took him for every penny. Every penny that he hadn't paid Mary for her work on his posters for the upcoming event. Every penny that he hadn't paid her for the ad in her newspaper. I wanted to make him pay.
"I think it's a fine idea," Josiah said, nodding slowly. "Mary has a point. We all could use something a little more refined out here in the roughness of..."
"You just had to let them use your church, didn't you!" I interrupted with the accusation. Josiah looked surprised.
"I didn't know you'd object," he said calmly. "I'm still not sure why you would."
It was too late now. If Josiah refused them the venue, somehow, at some point in time, Mary would find out that I was to blame and then I'd be lucky to leave town in one piece, let alone alive. I sighed.
"Something's not right about this," I muttered to no one in particular.
*****
The following morning I was strapping my saddlebag on my horse when I sensed a current of uneasiness. Trusting my instincts had kept me alive up to this point so I immediately looked around. I should have realized what was about to happen when my own men retreated up onto the boardwalk, backing away as though to distance themselves from my person. Cowards, all of them! Only Vin remained by my side and even he stayed with his horse in between us.
Mary stormed up the street with her anger as plain as a thunder cloud, completely oblivious to the stares she was generating from all she passed on her journey over to me.
"Mister Larabee!"
I winced. This couldn't be good. "Mary," I said calmly. "What's the matter?"
"What's the matter?" She was incredulous. "Mr. Randall is in the jail!"
"I know." I tried to suppress a tiny smile of satisfaction. "I put him there."
Her expression was both murderous and amazed at the same time. "On what charge?"
This did surprise me. She'd never before expressed any dissatisfaction with my handling of the criminal element. I blinked. "Assault," I told her shortly.
"Assault of whom?" she asked with exasperation when I didn't elaborate.
"Saloon table," I said.
Vin actually ducked down at that point, then peeked up over his saddle with anxious eyes.
"Drunk and disorderly conduct," I amended quickly. "Mary, he started a brawl in the saloon last night."
"That is practically a daily occurrence," she said icily. "Yet the jail is remarkably empty most of the time."
My irritation surfaced then, despite all my attempts to control it. "Tell me something, Mrs. Travis, since I seem to have forgotten and you know so much. Which one of us was hired to protect this town?"
The look she gave me could have set off dynamite. "You," she said coldly.
I nodded. "Well then." I held up my hands by my sides with a gesture that was both a question and a challenge.
"You are the most...." she spluttered as she ran out of words and then spat out, "irritating man!" Then she left in a whirlwind as treacherous as her arrival.
"Mr. Larabee," Ezra shook his head coming slowly forward. "As usual, the eloquence of your reasoning is truly astonishing."
"Ezra." I mounted my horse. "Shut up."
Ezra's smile was echoed by the others, all amused by witnessing that exchange. He tipped his hat. "And again, Mr. Larabee, a most compelling argument."
"Pard, I gotta say," Vin started as he mounted as well.
"Don't," I bit out. He nodded and said nothing more.
*****
JD was seated at the desk with his feet resting up on a corner reading a book. He scrambled up so quickly when I entered that he very nearly fell over on his backside but he recovered nicely. I dumped a stack of wanted posters in front of him and my eyes flickered over to the jail cells. The empty jail cells.
"I had to let him go, Chris. He paid the fine when he woke up sober."
"Yeah." I didn't blame JD. There was no legitimate reason to keep Randall in the jail. I could hardly charge the man with setting off my gut instinct.
"But Buck's been keeping an eye on him all day while you were gone. Just to be sure he didn't cause no more trouble," JD told me. "They're over at the hotel now."
"Thanks kid."
At the hotel, Randall was eating by himself in the dining area, with Buck not even trying to disguise the fact that he was watching him. Not that it seemed to be affecting Randall in the least. Buck gave me a nod and a wink that let me know he'd been taking care of things. I went over to Randall's table and sat without waiting for an invitation.
"Mr. Larabee," he acknowledged.
"Mr. Randall." Now that we had the polite niceties out of the way. "You'd better not be thinking of tearing up the saloon again tonight."
He smiled faintly. "As I recall it, I wasn't the one who did most of the damage there. Yet, oddly, I was the only one who ended up in a cell."
"As I recall it," I said icily, "you were too drunk to be aware of what you were doing, or who you were hitting....or why."
He inclined his head and then continued eating. "I'm very sorry," he said after a moment.
"I doubt it," I responded swiftly.
"I'm very sorry," he repeated. "I didn't realize who you were when we met."
I didn't think there had been any ambiguity about my introduction to Randall but I said nothing.
"I should have realized sooner that you were the widow's companion," he continued with that false mannerism that so aggravated me.
"Companion?" My bewilderment broke through because for a split second I thought he was talking about Mrs. Potter. She had been widowed just as we'd returned to Four Corners and thus I always associate the word with her. Yet there were other widows in our town.
"She is yours, isn't she?" Randall was being purposely innocent in his manner.
"Mary Travis," I bit the name out, "does not belong to anyone. She's a very independent lady."
"My mistake," he said smoothly.
I forced my hands to unclench from the fists that had formed beneath the table. "I don't know what you think you are doing here, Mr. Randall, but you're not going to get away with it. Not in my town."
"And not with your woman, either, I should imagine," he said with a humourless chuckle.
I stood. JD had come in and was now standing over by Buck watching us anxiously as though he expected violence.
"JD!" I called. "You've read up on the town ordinances, right?"
I had to give the boy credit. I wasn't even sure he'd know what an ordinance was, but he didn't miss a beat.
"You bet, Chris. I know 'em all."
"You keep an eye on Mr. Randall here. If he breaks any one of those rules, if he even looks like he might be considering breaking one of those rules, I want him back in the jail. You understand?" I stepped away from the table and gave Randall one last cold look. And yes, finally, he returned the glare with one of his own. I'd unsettled him then. Good.
"Consider it done, Chris," JD spoke with that cocky confidence that I swear will get him killed one day. But not today.
*****
We watched the players arrival with carefully guarded interest. They were a spectacle all right. I just wished they'd chosen some other town to dazzle.
"Chris, I'm not sure what you got against this Randall fella," Vin commented from his vantage point by the steps.
"He irritates me," I said.
"Flies are irritating too." He looked back at me. "And I don't see you gunning for them."
"This is different," I insisted.
"'Course it is," boomed Buck, coming from behind. He leaned on the saloon door. "It's always different when there's a woman involved, Chris. You don't have to explain it to us, stud." He winked.
I scowled. If I denied it now, they wouldn't believe me. It would only add credence to Buck's theory.
"Mary has sure done a job of getting folks interested in this play though," Nathan said. "I'd say they're expecting a pretty big turnout."
Of course Mary had done a great job; she was out to prove me wrong for my initial reaction to the idea and my subsequent harassment of Randall.
"Well, we're going to all be there, aren't we boys?" I asked cheerfully.
Vin turned an incredulous look to me then and opened his mouth to out and out refuse. "I ain't going to no fancy play," he was going to say, "and there's not a damn thing you can do to make me."
"Because after all," I continued, before any objections could actually be voiced, "with practically the whole town at this play, what possible trouble could there be for us to deal with?"
The silence was so loud I swear I could almost hear their brains turning over with my implication.
"Uh...?" JD looked a little puzzled while Buck frowned. Ezra grinned and nodded at me knowingly.
"Quite right, Mr. Larabee. If the entire population of our community is otherwise engaged then there's no chance that foul play may be afoot, what with there being so few witnesses."
"Should we leave the bank door unlocked for them?" Josiah asked with that serious way of his that fooled you until you knew he was joking.
"If I didn't know you better, pard, I'd say you were a touch paranoid," Buck commented.
Vin snorted. "What makes you think you know better?"
There were no objections to attending the play.
*****
I watched Randall taking people's money at the door to the church, playing them as falsely as he'd played everyone since he'd arrived. When the last person had stepped through the door and he went to pull the knob, I stuck out my foot to prevent him closing it. He looked a little startled and then wary as I handed over my money, taken from the fine he'd paid JD.
"I didn't expect to see you here, Mr. Larabee," he admitted.
"Oh I couldn't miss this," I said, watching him carefully.
I moved behind him, close enough to be intimidating and I could tell that I'd already put him off guard. He was as nervous as I'd ever seen him, although he was recovering well. He tried to usher me into a seat in one of the back pews but I insisted he go first. He hesitated.
"I may need to get up during the performance and I wouldn't want to disturb you."
"No disturbance," I assured him. "I'll probably be grateful for the chance to stretch my legs."
He was clearly unwilling to be boxed in and we stared at each other stonily for a moment. Then I made a point of having my eyes seek out my other peacekeepers, strategically placed throughout the church in ways that let Randall know that no one associated with his merry band of players would be leaving the venue until the performance was done. He sat, defeated.
"What's the name of this play again?" I asked, as I took my seat next to him.
He smiled wryly. "I'm sure you're going to appreciate it, Mr. Larabee. It's The Taming of the Shrew."
*****
It was truly a fine day indeed. The sun was shining and a gentle breeze blowing, enough to keep things relatively cool but not raise too much dust. I'd just seen the last of William Randall IV, having sent him on his way with a not so subtle warning never to return. He assured me that Four Corners was definitely off the repeat performance list.
"You're good at what you do, Mr. Larabee," he'd told me ruefully.
I had grinned. I couldn't be happier that the son of a bitch was leaving. "No, Mr. Randall. You're good at what you do. I'm better."
I strolled past Mrs. Potter, who was sweeping at the front of her store. My friendly nod seemed to startle her a bit as she stammered a greeting. I barely noticed. I continued past the hotel to the Clarion office where Mary was opening the blinds on her windows.
"Good morning," she called to me, coming to the open door. I smiled.
"Yeah, it is, isn't it?"
She had a look of satisfaction that a cat with cream could envy. And so, I suspected, did I.
*****
Go to Part 2 of The Widow's Companion
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